Archive
03/14/12
By an Icy Lake
This Wednesday morning, into which I awaken, dream-drowsy, By a lake reflecting the sun's fiery, bright-white shine, Blinding my eyes, with its icy, crystallized sheen, Is, I realize, the infinite ecstasy of primal mind-fantasy, Bequeathed me by the Great Creator of the ancient world,
That scared place from which my spirit migrated, into time, That holy location I've been searching for, my entire life, Hoping to find my earthly purpose, through communion, Writing, on the ageless pages of its open notebook, Wisdom's visions, which I might contribute to the generations.
For now, in the space fate has allocated to my briefness, I must concentrate on acquainting myself with the seasons, Dialoguing with wind, sun, moon, stars, water, and grass, Foxes, chipmunks, raccoons, bears, deer, rabbits, and worms, Crows, loons, bald eagles, butterflies, basses, trouts, and pikes,
That I might learn to spurn my turning toward self-importance, Seek serene indifference to obsessions that possess me, Discover peace in the least leaf-stirring breeze-murmur, And sleep, believing that even when dreams distract me, I'll awaken by a lake reflecting the sun's fiery, bright-white shine.
03/14/12
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